


where the crickets sing your name.

by lolitalynne



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, a stream of consciousness that probably makes no sense, it's lame and there's no smut you're all probably disappointed i'm sorry, this is really just something stupid okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21001049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolitalynne/pseuds/lolitalynne
Summary: It had been a long time since he’d found anything worth protecting but he’d been reminded that he could still be a hero if he got his head out of his own ass long enough. Dwight made it pretty easy to fight for something.





	where the crickets sing your name.

Like most people on the planet, Ash has done things in his life he regrets. He’s fully aware that he’s not what anyone would consider a role model and hasn’t really felt like a good person for many years now. He was a good man before he’d read from the Necronomicon and before he’d been the catalyst for ruining so many lives. He blamed himself for the plague unleashed upon the world and it was that guilt that fueled his fight against the Deadties for so many years. He’d been forced to kill his own girlfriend, forced to watch his sister and best friend turn to dust before his eyes, all because he was stupid enough to read from a book. As he’d aged it became too much to live with and most days Ash didn’t handle all of that particularly well. Between visiting seedy bars for cheap beer and fast women to sitting around smoking weed and contemplating his life’s choices, things hadn’t turned out the way he’d wanted them to. Not that he’d expected things to be easy but in his fifties he’d thought all the childish bullshit would have been behind him. He’d made it worse, of course, by getting high and reading from the Necronomicon _again_ all to impress a woman he’s not even sure he was super interested in in the first place.  
  
Pro-tip kids: don’t read from strange books you find in the cellars of old cabins no matter how curious you might be.

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised when he dropped into this new realm. After all, he’d been transported to the future—spoiler alert: it was terrible—so the existence of other worlds wasn’t as shocking to him as it might be to other people. That being said, he didn’t really mind it. Coming across the campfire and the others stuck here with him was alright, he supposed. He wanted his chainsaw and shotgun but he wasn’t granted that luxury. For the most part he was surrounded by kids in their mid-twenties and early thirties, which only served to remind him that he was not getting any younger. As such, he got along best with Ace since they were around the same age and of a similar personality. By association he spent time around David since he and Ace were also close—even if it oftentimes seemed like David couldn’t stand him; but then he’d snicker at something Ace said and that exasperation would be gone. Since he’d gravitated towards that trio with the added bonus of Bill and Tapp, he hadn’t initially gotten to know the younger survivors.  
  
Ash had seen that each of them had their strengths and weaknesses and that they were a broad group of kids. It was really pretty admirable they were managing to outlast and many of them reminded him of himself; he’d seen more shit than he should have. A lot of it was pretty comparable to what he’d dealt with. Being speared on rusted meathooks over and over again, being unable to die, not to mention the endgame (which, as he’d been told, didn’t always exist) were in some ways worse. The world around them adapted all the time and the ones that had been around to see it from the start were Dwight, Meg, Claudette, and Jake. From what he’d heard, Dwight has been here from the very beginning, even before the others.

The kid was unassuming; he wasn’t someone Ash would have paid attention to if he were back in his own world. Upon first glance he was timid and shy, nervous as all hell and always biting his nails. He didn’t want to tell anyone his story but it was easy to see that he was someone that had gone vastly ignored for most of his life. Ash had assumed that he’d been teased, picked on, bullied enough to become quiet and withdrawn. From what Ash could tell, the others all thought very highly of him. At first he wasn’t sure what to think of the nervous man. He knew his particular style doesn’t vibe with everyone and that he’s cocky and arrogant in ways that definitely got him into trouble. Dwight seemed like the good boy from down the block type; one of those kids that would never break a rule if they could help it. That being said, he hadn’t paid much attention to Dwight until he saw the kid’s leadership in action. It had been a long time since he’d found anything worth protecting but he’d been reminded that he _could_ still be a hero if he got his head out of his own ass long enough. Dwight made it pretty easy to fight for something.  
  
He can’t forgive himself for the transgressions of his past, for the terrible things he’s had to do despite the fact they were necessary for his ow survival. If he had allowed himself to be killed then, if he’d left his girlfriend do what she’d intended, it wouldn’t have solved anything. The Necronomicon had still be spoken, there were still Demons out there, and who would fight them off? He’d felt responsible because he was. It’s the same idea here. He doesn’t feel like he’s done a good job unless everyone lives. He’ll sacrifice himself if it meant the others could get out as he’s already counted his own life as expendable—despite what his massive ego would state otherwise. It’s the same cat and mouse game he was playing back home, only this time the stakes weren’t quite as high. Death was permanent there—under the right circumstances, he supposed—and it was just an everyday occurrence here. It wasn’t anything to be feared. No, the fear came from the anticipation of pain and trauma. An eternal game of life and death that they can’t escape from. In some sick way, Ash thinks that maybe this could be some kind of saving grace; a chance for some kind of repentance he doesn’t really deserve.

Out of all the things he doesn’t deserve, the man sitting in his lap is right at the top.  
  
There’s no reason for Dwight Fairfield—young and unburdened as he is—to want anything to do with a man like himself. It doesn’t really make sense and it’s like a whirlwind that he is immediately swept up in. He’s older and has so much less to offer than he would have if they’d met when he was in his twenties. All he has now is an ego the size of Australia and some great sex techniques. Dwight is soft and gentle, sincere and full of love to give. Ash wanted to try and push him away, wanted to tell Dwight he shouldn’t have any interest in someone like himself, but he’s greedy. How and when Dwight endeared himself he’ll never know, could probably spend the rest of his life trying to figure it out, but that’s going to be a long time here in the fog and he doesn’t have the patience to try. He doesn’t question most things in his life, has always erred on the side of lackadaisical, so how and why it happens doesn’t matter anyway. He goes with it because why wouldn’t he? There’s really no downside as long as he and Dwight are getting what they collectively need.

Around the campfire everyone is getting a break, they’re all resting in some form whether that be actually sleeping or just laying around. The forest is quiet and the fire crackles and pops, spreading flickering embers into the dirt. No one’s been called to a trial and it’s downtime that’s well deserved. They’d all been doing great lately, especially Dwight, and Ash is proud of him. He’s sure he’s said that more than once and he hopes that Dwight takes it to heart, particularly now that they’re…well, what are they? There’s been no words put to it and Ash has a long history of being awkward about romance, but he guesses he can call it dating. It’s more than sex at this point, hasn’t been just about that for a while now if he’s being honest. He’s used to meaningless flings and picking women up in shitty bars with cheap alcohol on their breath and just enough of a buzz to make bad choices. For all his bravado he knows he’s really no catch but he does know he’s a good fuck. Dwight, well, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person that would just be satisfied with a no-strings-attached sort of relationship anyway and Ash is willing to make that exception for him. That probably should have been the first sign it was more than sex.

He’s dated before and the notion isn’t impossible. However, Ash finds it hard to use that term now, even harder when they’re in a place like this and they can’t go through the motions of proper dating etiquette. Heading into trials and having each other’s backs, lifting one another off meat hooks, and taking hits so they can escape isn’t really romantic. Dwight has tried to compensate by taking Ash to some of his favorite places out in the forest, areas that he’s found that provide some glimmer of happiness. And he loves seeing Dwight happy; the way his doe-brown eyes light up and he perks like a child seeing all their presents on Christmas morning. When he’s happy—and that’s _really_ happy—he smiles and it brightens up their darkened corner of the forest. He laughs in a way that Ash thinks could heal the sick and dying; light and high but still just as demure as the rest of him. It’s the warmth behind it that makes all the difference. He almost always bites his lip at the end of a laugh, sometimes wrings his hands, and Ash finds himself drawn to those little things every time.

Ash needs people to fight for. He won’t fight for himself (it’s more likely he’d run away to avoid problems) so the best way to ignite his fight or flight is to put someone he cares about in danger. He cares about all these other survivors, considers himself one of the best equipped to handle these situations, but Dwight takes a special place. As brave as Dwight is when Ash gets there he can still see the coward in him and it reminds Ash a lot of himself. He’s scared, deep down, but he’s learned how to hide it through arrogance and bravado. Dwight can’t really hide anything. It’s alwys beautiful to see every emotion that is plainly written across his face.  
  
The body in his lap shifts a little and Dwight tilts his head to further press into the spot just under Ash’s chin. In turn, Ash readjusts his hold, locking his fingers together where they both rest on Dwight’s hip as he holds him in place.

It feels so rare that the kid sleeps and when he does it’s usually not soundly. He can’t really blame him for that, this shit’s all a waking nightmare to begin with. It’s a moment of calm around the campfire, and he’s no artist, but it feels like a Renaissance painting in the flesh. Jake, Meg, and Claudette are laying with one another, limbs draped and heads cradled in the way that siblings will gravitate towards one another during nap-time—they’re not too far from him and Dwight, they never are. Nea is close to Meg, their hands intertwined in their sleep. Laurie had been taking care of Quentin, as she usually was, while Feng and Adam had crowded around Kate. She’d been playing guitar until they all started drifting. Jeff and Jane had been talking softly with one another as everyone started to doze, staring off into the sky; they fell asleep while Kate was playing some soft song she’d made up. David had unabashedly thrown a mechanic’s rag over his face as he lounged and listened and Ash assumes he’d passed out and hadn’t felt guilty about it. Ever vigilant, Bill and Tapp had been the last two awake besides himself; Ace had provided the middle stabilization so the other two could lean against him if they started nodding off. The only sounds around them now are the soft symphony of breathing and it’s more comforting than even Kate’s singing.  
  
He doesn’t realize that he’s slowly soothing his hand up and down Dwight’s thigh until the other moves again, a warm, sleepy sound rumbling in his throat. His eyes are starting to close now and he wants to fight it, for he wants to revel in this moment just a little while longer. He wants to watch Dwight as he sleeps because that’s when he’s most relaxed. He observes the rise and fall of his chest, angles his head so he can see the lines of Dwight’s face evened out; he has freckles that you can barely see unless you’re close enough—how many people have noticed? How many people have even taken the time? He wouldn’t have. He would have thought Dwight plain, not quite worth his time. They ran in different circles anyway and he’d venture to guess that Dwight has never stepped into a club or bar in his entire life. Well, a bar perhaps, but he certainly wouldn’t have been interested in half the things Ash has done. All in all, the him that had been so caught up in his own shit would never have given this kid a chance. He’s not going to apologize to himself for the thought because he knows Dwight now and he isn’t the least bit ordinary.

Ash has to move and adjust himself to ease the ache in his hip and it’s his shifting that rouses Dwight. He makes a noise and stirs, trying to move with Ash but ultimately just wriggling around uselessly. Ash chuckles and sits up finally, seating Dwight fully in his lap. The leader finally opens his eyes blearily. His vision is not clear, his glasses had been set aside, but he groggily peers up at Ash. He can make out the soft smile he gets and smiles in turn. "You okay?" he asks, voice soft and thick with sleep. He receives a nod.  
  
"Just need to move," Ash replies quietly as he slides down further and urges Dwight to follow him.  
  
He gets the hint and moves off the other man’s lap, wavering a little in his sleepy daze. He doesn’t bother to put his glasses back on but he does sweep his eyes across the campfire. It’s calm in a way it hasn’t been in a long time. Maybe that’s why Dwight suddenly feels so at peace, like he can forget where he is and sleep soundly. Like for once he won’t have nightmares and the night will be harmonious. A yawn draws it’s way past his lips and when Ash finally lays down Dwight joins him. He’s awake enough to note when Ash takes his chin and tips his head with the intent to kiss him, but also asleep enough that his reactions are a little too slow. Ash snickers against his mouth after going in for a quick peck or two (maybe four, who was really counting?) and reaches to press his hand to the small of the other’s back. With that he drags Dwight in and the leader doesn’t protest.  
  
They lay against a blanket the Entity was kind enough to grant them, one of Dwight’s hoodies bunched up enough to act as a pillow for Ash, while Dwight gets himself comfortable against Ash’s chest. He didn’t want to admit it, but some part of him missed things like this. The intimacy and affection were things he enjoyed back when he was dating rather than just sleeping around. Ash isn’t really good at most of those things anymore so he compensates in other ways. Dwight presses his cheek to Ash’s chest and drapes his arm around the man’s torso. Ash responds by sliding an arm underneath him, curling up and around his waist. Dwight is asleep again almost immediately. Ash sighs quietly and finally allows himself to drift.  
  
Once more the camp is full of the sounds of sleep amidst the calling night-birds and the unwavering fire.

**Author's Note:**

> ya girl back at it again with that dwight/ash content that has just barely been edited. ngl this is probably rubbish in comparison to anything else i've written but i've been working on this on and off while going through depressive episodes. hope you enjoy it anyway 😩 
> 
> like always find me on xbox (ACTUAL DWIGHT), ps4 (Antiochs), and tumblr @ oh-grabbin-fee


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